Over four and a half hours, Dying for Sex was always leading to the inevitable. I should have prepared more. I should have at least had tissues on hand when I watched the last two episodes. I hope you did because I sure didn’t. I’m glad my couch is absorbent.
Molly’s life slowly comes to an end in a truly moving two-part narrative that celebrates the human body. More than any other show in recent memory, Dying for Sex seeks to celebrate the physical form in all states of being. So it makes sense that Molly has her first collaborative orgasmic experience shortly before dying.
La petite mort is a French term that refers to the moment after orgasm. It literally translates as “a little death,” as the transcendence that can be found in this moment can make a person feel like they are on another plane of existence. La petite mort can also refer to other things, such as a small death of the emotional self during a trauma, so it’s a fitting term to use to talk about Molly’s final days. By the time she reaches the point where her body is shutting down, she has worked to reckon with the first “little death” — the sexual abuse at the hands of her mother’s boyfriend that altered her ability to let go with another person — and given herself a chance to heal via another “little death”: achieving her end-of-life goal of orgasming with another person. These two “deaths” mark Molly’s initial dissociation from her body and then a triumphant reclamation of it, something not everyone gets a chance to do before they die.
And Nikki is the conduit through which all of this transformative healing takes place. Everyone needs a Nikki in their lives. At the conclusion of the previous episode, Molly’s lung collapsed when she saw Neighbor Guy (I like to call him “Guy”) on the street. He accompanied her to the hospital, and now she’s been intubated with a breathing tube. Nikki is instantly there by her side to provide support. Even though Molly can’t talk, she communicates easily with her bestie via notepad, hand gestures, and facial expressions. Nikki acts out part of A Midsummer Night’s Dream and then parts of Clueless and then draws Molly a bunch of vulvas in fancy hats. (They’re going to the Royal Wedding, of course.)
Molly is uncomfortable, so she requests that her breathing tube be taken out. Nikki is the one who has to make the decision. Molly’s body could forget how to breathe, and she could die. But Nikki honors her friend’s wishes and the doctor removes the tube. Molly remembers how to breathe, and as she’s cuddled up with Nikki, hand cupping her favorite emotional-support boob, she realizes that she wants to see Guy again. Nikki makes it happen.
Or, at least, she tries to make it happen. As she goes to collect Guy and all of Molly’s things from her apartment building, her car gets towed. In the middle of all of this, her ex-boyfriend Noah calls, and Nikki winds up asking for his help. I love the ways in which Dying for Sex gets men involved in the pursuit of Molly’s big O. Noah comes to the hospital with a giant bag full of vibrators — with different types of clitoral stimulation! — and a rose, er, a butthole, for good measure. He also brings soup for Nikki, one of the lone examples of someone caring for the carer in this series, and they hang out for a bit in the lobby as Molly connects with Guy up in her hospital room.
At this point, everyone is pretty much on board with Molly’s orgasm quest. The sweet Dr. Jerry Pankowitz mentions to Molly that he will be ordering a spinal tap for her in the morning to see if her cancer has spread to the lining of her spine and that she will need recovery time afterward. He sheepishly says, “I know you have certain … goals.” Delighted, Molly asks if he wants to make sure she can still have sex, and a bit flustered, he says, “I’m not made of stone.” Man, I wish all doctors were like Jerry. Also, just a shout-out to what great work David Rasche is doing on this series. I just want to hug him every time I see him onscreen.
The night nurse, Ernie, starts off a bit more rigid in his opinion of Molly’s sex quest. He’s eventually charmed by his patient and relents but still insists on doing his rounds. As Molly and Guy start to fool around, things get hot and heavy, but Ernie has a job to do. As Guy goes down on Molly, Ernie barges in to check Molly’s vitals and give her some vitamin E. The visual of Molly’s head under a blanket and Guy’s two hairy legs dangling over the side of the bed is terrifically funny. Then Ernie tosses off the line, “Your blood pressure is elevated, and your leg looks fucked up.” Molly responds, “You’re killing me, Ernie!” This honestly might be one of the funniest sequences ever set in a hospital.
There’s a lot of laughing before the crying starts in this episode. As Guy and Molly enjoy one another’s company, they seem to be very much on the same wavelength. At first, Guy brings her taco socks, and she plays the game of berating him for his gift. Eventually, they end up on her feet. Then, they take turns spreading lube in each other’s hair and giggling like maniacs. But the main focus of their time together is Molly’s pleasure. Guy seems very dedicated to helping Molly achieve her goal, even if he has to play around with her a bit to do it. Every time he gets close to making her orgasm, he jumps up to do something else, like play Wordle. But also, every time she starts to lose focus and begins to think of her faceless abuser, he reels her back in.
Eventually, as the dawn breaks, Guy is able to bring Molly to climax. The scene is mostly silent with Molly’s breath the only thing we hear. The camera focuses on her face and then her mouth as she breathes in ecstasy, letting go of her mental blocks and allowing her body to take the wheel. It’s a moment of well-earned catharsis for both Molly and the series.
As I watched this unfold, I thought it was fitting that Rob Delaney would portray Guy, as he experienced the devastating loss of one of his children. He, more than most, has a deep understanding of what it’s like to honor someone you love at the end of their life. His compassion and tenderness are expressed in myriad ways as he attends to Molly in her hospital bed, in all the ways she needs to be loved before she sets off on her final journey. Delaney is always such a joy to watch onscreen, but here he reaches a new level of wonderful. I want to hug his character, too. (Can I just hug everyone on this show?)
The person most in need of a hug is Nikki. After Guy leaves, she comes back into the room and snuggles Molly. Molly chooses to tell Nikki about her success by quoting a scene from Clueless. “I love Josh! I love Josh! Fountain! Fountain!” she says. Nikki is so happy, but then the two women have to face some bad news: Molly’s cancer has spread to her spinal fluid and her brain, and it’s time for her to enter hospice.
Molly spends the final weeks of her life with Nikki and her mom. Gail, for her part, has been waiting at the hospital just in case Molly needs her. The moment when she calls Molly and Molly tells her she wants to see her is when I start crying and basically never stop. Nurse Amy (the great Paula Pell) is also there to help Molly. When she comes to tell Molly, Nikki, and Gail about the dying process, she underscores the natural process of death and dying. “Your body knows how to die. How cool is that?” she says, likening the process to giving birth or even having an orgasm. Molly’s little death, her orgasm with Guy, is to be followed by her big death. And her body knows how to guide her.
As Molly’s body begins to shut down, Gail and Nikki wait by her side, completing lots of puzzles and sleeping in shifts. Molly dyes her hair pink. And then there’s the rally, where Molly gets a burst of energy and dances with abandon with the two people she loves most in the world. She’s also starting to become unmoored from reality, having hallucinations of floating objects and rotating through the cast of all the people she’s ever known. There’s a very entertaining visual of Molly seeing the finance bro with the perfect penis from episode four. In her surreal reverie, he’s naked and his unicorn dick detaches from his body and flies into the air. Bodies, man. They are very cool.
But the inevitable approaches, and as Gail and Nikki wait, Amy tells Gail that Molly might be holding on because she’s worried about one of her loved ones. Gail realizes that Molly is worried about Nikki being alone, so she hacks into Nikki’s phone using the Face ID while she’s sleeping and calls Noah. Gail is a sneaky bitch. But her con works, and Noah shows up at the hospital. First, Molly apologizes to Noah, telling him that she’s sorry she asked him to do this when he and Nikki were just starting to make a life together. Noah, for his part, isn’t sorry because he knows that Nikki “loves you with all that she has.” (Sob!) Molly then tells him that her dying wish is for him to break up with his girlfriend and that she’ll haunt him if he doesn’t, but she doesn’t need to do all that because he’s newly single. With the idea that Nikki and Noah can make things right, Molly can finally let go.
The final few minutes of the episode see Molly deciding that she’s ready to die. She’s felt as much as she can, for as long as she can, and now it’s time. “My body did a good job,” she tells Nikki. Gail and Nikki are also ready to say good-bye. Even though the show has readied us for this moment, each line is simply heartbreaking. Molly starts to use the last of her energy to convey something to her mother, and Gail says, “I know.” Sissy Spacek’s emotions are so raw and open in this scene, and this openness allows Gail to give her daughter the gift of understanding. Even though they had a rough relationship, their bond is unmistakably theirs, and they found space to connect in the moments that mattered.
Molly settles into bed for the last time, and Amy is ready with a sedative. Molly gives her mother a look loaded with meaning and love — if a picture is worth a thousand words, this look is worth a million — and then she turns to Nikki to deliver her final words: “You are my favorite person in the whole wide world.” As the camera delivers an overhead shot of Molly lying in bed, we see Nikki cradling Molly’s hand on her left and the 7-year-old version of herself spooning on the right. In her last moments, she’s reconciled all of the knotty feelings she had been harboring toward her younger self, and now she can die in peace. (Pause for crying. I’m crying writing this. Are you crying? We’re all crying, right?)
After Molly takes her last breath, Nikki is there to close her mouth, as she promised she wouldn’t let her bestie die with an open mouth. Molly’s mouth won’t close on its own, so Nikki shoves her jacket under her jaw to prop her chin up. It’s so funny, beautiful, and morbid at the same time, just like this show.
Of course, Dying for Sex has one last emotional blow to deliver. In the final moments, we see Nikki go about her life. She’s working on a production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and she’s back with Noah. As she meets up with Noah and his daughter, she spies a pair of older women sharing good conversation and a laugh. Jenny Slate has been on point throughout this entire series, but what she conveys with her facial expression here is the button that underscores the true love story of the series. The idea that Nikki will never get to experience being old with her best friend is devastating. Nikki’s eyes well with tears for a moment as she contemplates the women, but then a smile creeps up on her face. Just like she kept telling people throughout Molly’s cancer journey, she didn’t want to have any regrets. And she doesn’t. Instead, she has cherished memories of her beloved friend that will last a lifetime.
Molly’s pursuit of one last orgasm before death is so funny, beautiful, and morbid at the same time.
